The last of all the Romans, fare thee well!
It is impossible, that ever Rome

Should breed thy fellow.-Friends, I owe more tears
To this dead man, than you shall see me pay.—
I shall find time, Cassius, I shall find time.-
Come, therefore, and to Thassos send his body;
His funeral shall not be in our camp,
Lest it discomfort us.-Lucilius, come;-
And come, young Cato; let us to the field.-
Labeo, and Flavius, set our battles on:-
'Tis three o'clock; and, Romans, yet ere night
We shall try fortune in a second fight.

[Exeunt.

Luc. Safe, Antony; Brutus is safe enough:
I dare assure thee, that no enemy
Shall ever take alive the noble Brutus :
The gods defend him from so great a shame!
When you do find him, or alive, or dead,
He will be found like Brutus, like himself.

Ant. This is not Brutus, friend; but, I assure you,
A prize no less in worth: keep this man safe,
Give him all kindness: I had rather have
Such men my friends, than enemies, Go on,
And see whe'r Brutus be alive, or dead:
And bring us word, unto Octavius' tent,
How every thing is chanc'd.

[Exeunt. SCENE V. Another Part of the Field. Enter BRUTUS, DARDANIUS, CLITUS, STRATO, and VOLUMNIUS.

Bru. Come, poor remains of friends, rest on this rock.

Why, this, Volumnius: The ghost of Cæsar hath appear'd to me Two several times by night: at Sardis, once; And, this last night, here in Philippi' fields. I know, my hour is come.

Vol.

Cli. O, Dardanius!
Dar. Ó, Clitus!

Cli. What ill request did Brutus make to thee?
Dar. To kill him, Clitus: Look, he meditates.
Cli. Now is that noble vessel full of grief,
That it runs over even at his eyes.

Bru. Come hither, good Volumnius; list a word,

Vol. What says my lord?

Bru.

Not so, my lord. Bru. Nay, I am sure it is, Volumnius. Thou see'st the world, Volumnius, how it goes; Our enemies have beat us to the pit:

It is more worthy to leap in ourselves,

Than tarry till they push us. Good Volumnius,
Thou know'st, that we two went to school together;
Even for that our love of old, I pray thee,
Hold thou my sword-hilts, whilst I run on it.
Vol. That's not an office for a friend, my lord.
(Alarum still.)
Cli. Fly, fly, my lord; there is no tarrying here.
Bru. Farewell to you;-and you;—and you,
Volumnius.-

Strato, thou hast been all this while asleep;
Farewell to thee too, Strato.-Countrymen,
My heart doth joy, that yet, in all my life,
I found no man, but he was true to me.
I shall have glory by this losing day,
More than Octavius, and Mark Antony,
By this vile conquest shall attain unto.
So, fare you well at once; for Brutus' tongue
Hath almost ended his life's history:
Night haugs upon mine eyes; my bones would rest,
That have but labour'd to attain this hour.
(Alarum. Cry within; Fly, fly, fly.)
Cli. Fly, my lord, fly.
Bru.

Hence; I will follow thee. [Exeunt Clitus, Dardanius, and Volumnius. I pr'ythee, Strato, stay thou by thy lord: Thou art a fellow of a good respect; Thy life hath had some smatch of honour in it: Hold then my sword, and turn away thy face, While I do run upon it. Wilt thou, Strato? Stra. Give me your hand first: Fare you well, my lord.

Bru. Farewell, good Strato.-Cæsar, now be still:
I kill'd not thee with half so good a will.
(He runs on his sword, and dies.)
Alarum. Retreat. Enter OCTAVIUS, ANTONY,
MESSALA, LUCILIUS, and their army.
Oct. What man is that?
[master?
Mes. My master's man.-Strato, where is thy
Stra. Free from the bondage you are in, Messala;
The conquerors can but make a fire of him;
For Brutus only overcame himself,

And no man else hath honour by his death.
Luc. So Brutus should be found.-I thank thee,
Brutus,

That thou hast prov'd Lucilius' saying true,
Oct. All that serv'd Brutus, I will entertain them.
Fellow, wilt thou bestow thy time with me?
Stra. Ay, if Messala will prefer me to you.
Oct. Do so, Messala.

Mes. How died my master, Strato? Stra. I held the sword, and he did run on it. Mes. Octavius, then take him to follow thee, That did the latest service to my master.

Ant. This was the noblest Roman of them all : All the conspirators, save only he, Did that they did in envy of great Cæsar; He, only, in a general honest thought, And common good to all, made one of them. His life was gentle; and the elements So mix'd in him, that Nature might stand And say to all the world, This was a man!

up,

Oct. According to his virtue let us use him, With all respect, and rites of burial. Within my tent his bones to-night shall lie, Most like a soldier, order'd honourably.So, call the field to rest and let's away, To part the glories of this happy day.

[Exeunt.

Char. Pray then, foresee me one.

Sooth. You shall be yet far fairer than you are.
Char. He means, in flesh.

Iras. No, you shall paint when you are old.
Char. Wrinkles forbid!

Alex. Vex not his prescience; be attentive. Char. Hush!

Sooth. You shall be more beloving, than beloved.
Char. I had rather heat my liver with drinking.
Alex. Nay, hear him.

Char. Good now, some excellent fortune! Let me be married to three kings in a forenoon, and widow them all: let me have a child at fifty, to whom Herod of Jewry may do homage: find me to marry me with Octavius Cæsar, and companion me with my mistress.

serve.

Sooth. You shall outlive the lady whom you [figs. Char. O excellent! I love long life better than Sooth. You have seen and proved a fairer former fortune Than that which is to approach.

Char. Then, belike, my children shall have no names: Pr'ythee, how many boys and wenches must I have?

Sooth. If every of your wishes had a womb, And fertile every wish, a million.

Char. Out, fool! I forgive thee for a witch. Alex. You think, none but your sheets are privy to your wishes.

Char. Nay, come, tell Iras hers.
Alex. We'll know all our fortunes.

Eno. Mine, and most of our fortunes, to-night, shall be-drunk to bed.

Iras. There's a palm presages chastity, if nothing [else. Char. Even as the o'erflowing Nilus presageth famine. [say. Iras. Go, you wild bedfellow, you cannot soothChar. Nay, if an oily palm be not a fruitful prog

[ACT I.

nostication, tell her but a worky-day fortune. cannot scratch mine ear.-Pr'ythee, Sooth. Your fortunes are alike.

Iras. But how, but how? give me particulars. Sooth. I have said. Iras. Am I not an inch of fortune better than [she? Char. Well, if you were but an inch of fortune better than I, where would you choose it? Iras. Not in my husband's nose.

Char. Our worser thoughts heavens mend! Alexas, come, his fortune, bis fortune.-O, let him marry a woman that cannot go, sweet Isis, I beseech thee! And let her die too, and give him a worse! and let worse follow worse, till the worst of all follow him laughing to his grave, fifty-fold a cuckold! Good Isis, hear me this prayer, though thou deny me a matter of more weight; good Isis, I beseech thee!

Iras. Amen. Dear goddess, bear that prayer of the people! for, as it is a heart-breaking to see a handsome man loose-wived, so it is a deadly sorrow to behold a foul knave uncuckolded; Therefore, dear Isis, keep decorum, and fortune him accordingly!

Char. Amen.

Alex. Lo, now! If it lay in their hands to make me a cuckold, they would make themselves whores, but they'd do't.

Eno. Hush! here comes Antony.
Char.
Not he, the queen.

Enter CLEOPATRA.

Cleo. Saw you my lord? Eno.

No, lady.

Cleo.

Was he not here? [sudden

Char. No, madam. Cleo. He was dispos'd to mirth; but on the A Roman thought hath struck him.—Enobarbus,— Eno. Madam. Cleo. Seek him, and bring him hither. Where's [Alexas? Alex. Here, madam, at your service. My lord approaches.

Enter ANTONY with a Messenger and Attendants.
Cleo. We will not look upon him: Go with us.
[Exeunt Cleopatra, Enobarbus, Alexas,
Iras, Charmian, Soothsayer, and
Attendants.

Mess. Fulvia thy wife first came into the field.
Ant. Against my brother Lucius?
Mess. Ay:

Made friends of them, jointing their force 'gainst
But soon that war had end, and the time's state
Cæsar;

Whose better issue in the war, from Italy,
Upon the first encounter, drave them.
Ant.
What worst?

Well,

Mess. The nature of bad news infects the teller. Ant. When it concerns the fool, or coward.On: Things, that are past, are done, with me.[thus: -Tis Who tells me true, though in his tale lie death, I hear him, as he flatter'd.

Labienus

Mess. (This is stiff news) hath, with his Parthian force Extended Asia from Euphrates;

His conquering banner shook, from Syria
To Lydia, and to Ionia;
Whilst-

Antony, thou would'st say,—

Ant.
Mess.
Ant. Speak to me home, mince not the general
O, my lord!
tongue;

Name Cleopatra as she's call'd in Rome :
With such full license, as both truth and malice
Rail thou in Fulvia's phrase; and taunt my faults
Have power to utter. O, then we bring forth weeds,
When our quick winds lie still; and our ills told us,
Is as our earing. Fare thee well a-while.
Mess. At your noble pleasure.

[ Exit.

Ant. From Sicyon how the news? Speak there. 1 Att. The man from Sicyou.-Is there such an one?

2 Att. He stays upon your will. Ant. Let him appear :These strong Egyptian fetters I must break, Enter another Messenger. Or lose myself in dotage.-What are you? 2 Mess. Fulvia, thy wife, is dead. Ant.

Where died she?

2 Mess. In Sicyon: Her length of sickness, with what else more serious Importeth thee to know, this bears. (Gives a letter.) Ant. Forbear me.

[Exit Messenger.
There's a great spirit gone! Thus did I desire it:
What our contempts do often hurl from us,
We wish it ours again; the present pleasure,
By revolution lowering, does become

The opposite of itself: she's good, being gone:
The hand could pluck her back, that shov'd her on.
I must from this enchanting queen break off;
Ten thousand harms, more than the ills I know,
My idleness doth hatch.-How now! Enobarbus!
Enter ENOBARBUS.
Eno. What's your pleasure, sir?
Ant. I must with haste from hence.

Eno. Why, then, we kill all our women: We see how mortal an unkindness is to them; if they suffer our departure, death's the word.

Ant. I must be gone.

Eno. Under a compelling occasion, let women die: It were pity to cast them away for nothing; though, between them and a great cause, they should be esteemed nothing. Cleopatra, catching but the least noise of this, dies instantly; I have seen her die twenty times upon far poorer moment: I do think, there is mettle in death, which commits some loving act upon her, she hath such celerity in dying.

Ant. She is cunning past man's thought.

Eno. Alack, sir, no; her passions are made of nothing but the finest part of pure love: We cannot call her winds and waters, sighs and tears; they are greater storms and tempests than almanacks can report: This cannot be cunning in her; if it be, she makes a shower of rain as well as Jove.

Ant. 'Would I had never seen her!

Eno. O, sir, you had then left unseen a wonderful piece of work; which not to have been blessed withal, would have discredited your travel.

Ant. Fulvia is dead.

Eno. Sir?

Ant. Fulvia is dead.

Eno. Fulvia?

Ant. Dead.

Eno. Why, sir, give the gods a thankful sacrifice. When it pleaseth their deities to take the wife of a man from him, it shews to man the tailors of the earth; comforting therein, that when old robes are worn out, there are members to make new. If there were no more women but Fulvia, then had you indeed a cut, and the case to be lamented: this grief is crowned with consolation; your old smock brings forth a new petticoat :-and, indeed, the tears live in an onion, that should water this sorrow.

Ant. The business she hath broached in the state, Cannot endure my absence.

Eno. And the business you have broached here cannot be without you; especially that of Cleopatra's, which wholly depends on your abode.

Ant. No more light answers. Let our officers Have notice what we purpose. I shall break The cause of our expedience to the queen, And get her love to part. For not alone The death of Fulvia, with more urgent touches, Do strongly speak to us; but the letters too Of many our contriving friends in Rome Petition us at home: Sextus Pompeius

Hath given the dare to Cæsar, and commands
The empire of the sea: our slippery people
(Whose love is never link'd to the deserver,
Till his deserts are past,) begin to throw
Pompey the great, and all his dignities,
Upon his son; who, high in name and power,
Higher than both in blood and life, stands up
For the main soldier; whose quality, going on,
The sides o'the world may danger: Much is
breeding,

Which, like the courser's hair, hath yet but life,
And not a serpent's poison. Say our pleasure,
To such whose place is under us, requires
Our quick remove from hence.
Eno. I shall do't.

[Exeunt. SCENE III. Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAS, and ALEXAS.

Cleo. Where is he?
Char.
I did not see him since.
Cleo. See where he is, who's with him, what he
does :-

I did not send you;-If you find him sad,
Say, I am dancing; if in mirth, report
That I am sudden sick: Quick, and return.
[Exit Alexas.
Char. Madam, methinks, if you did love him
You do not hold the method to enforce [dearly,
The like from him.

Cleo. What should I do, I do not? Char. In each thing give him way, cross him in nothing. [him. Cleo. Thou teachest like a fool; the way to lose In time we hate that which we often fear. Char. Tempt him not so too far: I wish, forbear;

Enter ANTONY. But here comes Antony. Cleo. I am sick, and sullen. Ant. I am sorry to give breathing to my purpose,

Cleo. Help me away, dear Charmian, I shall fall; It cannot be thus long, the sides of nature Will not sustain it.

Ant.
Now, my dearest queen,—
Cleo. Pray you, stand further from me.
Ant.
What's the matter?
Cleo. I know, by that same eye, there's some
good news.

What says the married woman?—You may go ;
Would she had never given you leave to come!
Let her not say, 'tis I that keep you here,
have no power upon you; her's you are.
Ant. The gods best know,-

Cleopatra,

Cleo. O, never was there queen So mightily betray'd! Yet, at the first, saw the treasons planted. Ant. [true, Cleo. Why should I think, you can be mine, and Though you in swearing shake the throned gods, Who have been false to Fulvia? Riotous madness, To be entangled with those mouth-made vows, Which break themselves in swearing! Most sweet queen,— Cleo. Nay, pray you, seek no colour for your going, But bid farewell, and go: when you sued staying, Then was the time for words: No going thenEternity was in our lips, and eyes;

Ant.

Bliss in our brows' bent; none our parts so poor,
But was a race of heaven: They are so still,
Or thou, the greatest soldier of the world,
Art turn'd the greatest liar.

Ant. How now, lady! Cleo. I would, I had thy inches; thou should'st There were a heart in Egypt.

[know, Ant. Hear me, queen: The strong necessity of time commands Our services a-while; but my full heart Remains in use with you. Our Italy

Shines o'er with civil swords: Sextus Pompeius
Makes his approaches to the port of Rome;
Equality of two domestic powers [strength,
Breeds scrupulous faction: The hated, grown to
Are newly grown to love: The condemn'd Pompey,
Rich in his father's honour, creeps apace
Into the hearts of such as have not thriv'd
Upon the present state, whose numbers threaten;
And quietness, grown sick of rest, would purge
By any desperate change: My more particular,
And that which most with you should safe my going,
Is Fulvia's death.

[freedom,

Cleo. Though age from folly could not give me It does from childishness:-Can Fulvia die?

Ant. She's dead, my queen: Look here, and, at thy sovereign leisure, read The garboils she awak'd; at the last, best: See, when, and where she died.

Cleo. O most false love! Where be the sacred vials thou should'st fill With sorrowful water? Now I see, I see, In Fulvia's death, how mine receiv'd shall be. Ant. Quarrel no more, but be prepar'd to know The purposes I bear; which are, or cease, As you shall give the advice: Now, by the fire, That quickens Nilus' slime, I go from hence, Thy soldier, servant; making peace, or war, As thou affect'st.

Ant. I'll leave you, lady. Cleo. Courteous lord, one word. Sir, you and I must part,-but that's not it: Sir, you and I have lov'd,-but there's not it; That you know well: Something it is I would,O, my oblivion is a very Antony, And I am all forgotten.

Ant. But that your royalty Holds idleness your subject, I should take you For idleness itself.

The lamps of night in revel: is not more manlike
Than Cleopatra; nor the queen of Ptolemy
More womanly than he hardly gave audience, or
Vouchsaf'd to think he had partners: You shall find
A man, who is the abstract of all faults [there

That all men follow.

Cleo. "Tis sweating labour, To bear such idleness so near the heart As Cleopatra this. But, sir, forgive me; Since my becomings kill me, when they do not Eye well to you: Your honour calls you hence; Therefore be deaf to my unpitied folly, And all the gods go with you! upon your sword Sit laurel'd victory! and smooth success Be strew'd before your feet!

Ant.

Let us go. Come; Our separation so abides, and flies, That thou, residing here, go'st yet with me, And I, hence fleeting, here remain with thee, Away. [Exeunt. SCENE IV.-Rome. An Apartment in Cæsar's House. Enter OCTAVIUS, CÆSAR, LEPIDUS, and Attendants Cas. You may see, Lepidus, and henceforth know, It is not Cæsar's natural vice to hate One great competitor: from Alexandria This is the news; He fishes, drinks, and wastes

Lep. I must not think, there are Evils enough to darken all his goodness: His faults, in him, seem as the spots of heaven, More fiery by night's blackness; hereditary, Rather than purchas'd; what he cannot change, Than what he chooses.

[Dot

Cæs. You are too indulgent: Let us grant, it is Amiss to tumble on the bed of Ptolemy; To give a kingdom for a mirth; to sit And keep the turn of tippling with a slave; To reel the streets at noon, and stand the buffet With knaves, that smell of sweat: say, this becomes (As his composure must be rare indeed, [him, Whom these things cannot blemish,) yet must AnNo way excuse his soils, when we do bear [tony So great weight in bis lightness. If he fill'd His vacancy with his voluptuousness, Full surfeits, and the dryness of his bones, Call on him for't: but to confound such time, That drums him from his sport, and speaks as load As his own state, and ours,-'tis to be chid As we rate boys; who, being mature in knowledge, Pawn their experience to their present pleasure, And so rebel to judgment.

Enter a Messenger.

Lep.

Here's more news. Mess. Thy biddings have been done; and every Most noble Cæsar, shalt thou have report [hour, How 'tis abroad. Pompey is strong at sea; And it appears, he is belov'd of those That only have fear'd Cæsar: to the ports The discontents repair, and men's reports Give him much wrong'd.

Cæs. I should have known no less:It hath been taught us from the primal state, That he, which is, was wish'd, until he were; And the ebb'd man, ne'er lov'd, till ne'er worth love, Comes dear'd, by being lack'd. This common body, Like to a vagabond flag upon the stream, Goes to, and back, lackeying the varying tide, To rot itself with motion.

Mess. Cæsar, I bring thee word, Menecrates and Menas, famous pirates, Make the sea serve them; which they ear and wound With keels of every kind: Many hot inroads They make in Italy; the borders maritime Lack blood to think on't, and flush youth revolt: No vessel can peep forth, but 'tis as soon Taken as seen; for Pompey's name strikes more, Than could his war resisted.

Cæs.

Antony,

Leave thy lascivious wassels. When thou once
Wast beaten from Modena, where thou slew'st
Hirtius and Pansa, consuls, at thy heel

Did famine follow; whom thou fought'st against,
Though daintily brought up, with patience more
Than savages could suffer: Thou didst drink
The stale of horses, and the gilded puddle [deig
Which beasts would cough at: thy palate then did
The roughest berry on the rudest hedge;
Yea, like the stag, when snow the pasture sheets,
The barks of trees thou browsed'st; on the Alps,
It is reported, thou didst eat strange flesh,
Which some did die to look on: And all this
(It wounds thine honour, that I speak it now,)
Was borne so like a soldier, that thy cheek
So much as lank'd not.
It is pity of him.
Cas. Let his shames quickly
Drive him to Rome: 'Tis time we twain

Lep.

Did shew ourselves i' the field; and, to that end, Assemble we immediate council: Pompey Thrives in our idleness.